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“Apology accepted. And, yes, I do. Now what’s going on?” he asked, careful to keep his tone neutral.
She turned her head to glance at him but just as quickly turned back to the view.
“I found out today that Ted has someone in town to keep an eye on me.”
It took Oz a moment to understand what she meant. He loaded her gear into the truck, taking a discreet look outside from behind his sunglasses. “Ted has someone spying on you?”
“It appears so, yes.”
“Ah. I get it.”
“What do you get?”
“Now that you know, you’re worried this person saw us kissing that day.” He wouldn’t mind if they had. In fact—
“No. I mean, it wouldn’t be good, but I pushed you away and stopped it and—I think maybe it started after that day,” she said. “Ted didn’t… He didn’t say anything about that. Maybe I should tell him? Be forthright about it?”
“Well, like you said, I kissed you, Devon. I’m the one at fault.”
Devon winced and inhaled.
“It’s just the thought of someone watching me, you know? It’s creepy.”
“You do realize that’ll be the norm if you marry the guy.”
The look of horror on her face told him she hadn’t actually thought of the fact politicians living in the spotlight often had security details.
“Did you tell Ted you didn’t like it?”
“He said it was for my safety.”
A part of Oz could see why the man was concerned about that, but at the same time, he didn’t feel that was the actual concern. “Well, unless this person has a four-wheel drive, they won’t be following us out onto the sand.”
She smiled at that. “They won’t, will they? What are we waiting for?”
Devon left the ocean and made her way across the hot sand to her towel, dropping onto her knees before sliding down on her stomach.
“Feel good to cool off?” Oz asked.
She bit back the moan of relief at getting her body temperature lowered and merely nodded her head. She’d gone with Dara and her mother to the beach a few days ago, but the hour had been spent talking about topics much too serious for relaxation.
But this?
Oz had driven them way out on the south end of the island. With it being a weekday, this part of the beach was mostly deserted, with only a few vehicles in sight.
And those were there when they’d arrived, she mused, smiling at the fact her spy would be hard-pressed to get pictures now.
Better still, Oz hadn’t forced conversation, so she’d been able to lose herself in the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the heat of the sun on her skin, and call of seagulls overhead. It was the best music and a balm for the soul.
“Hey. You need some sunscreen,” Oz said.
She opened one sun-exhausted eye and stared at her skin. With the heat on her back drying the moisture, she didn’t want to move. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. You don’t want to burn.”
“I can’t move, though. This is perfect,” she said, closing her eyes again.
She didn’t hear Oz get up, but something made her aware of his presence beside her. She forced her lashes up once more and watched as he plucked her sunscreen from the top of her bag.
